Put It All Away
by intricate-bindings
Summary: "I'll fight for you. Always, England." America swears it, but how long can England hold up?


I am completely and totally denying an allegation that these two countries ever thought of themselves as brothers! Nope! They never, ever did, for the sake of this fanfiction making sense and not being incest!

If things seem a little out of order, they will all be explained later.

NC-17 for yaoi and slight language.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Arthur paused. He looked up from his documents.

"America's here. He wants to see you."

Britain's hand stilled, fingers clenching around the pen. "Are you certain?"

"America is here and wants to see you. He's eating a hamburger and getting lettuce all over the front step."

"Tell him to wait in the parlor. I'll see him in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, sir."

"And clean up the fool's mess!"

After his servant had left, England sighed. _I know what he wants_, he thought, sitting back in his seat.

_He wants to give me an apology for the war. The idiot's been digging through that old storage closet of his. Talks about it every meeting, he does. And he's been giving me strange looks. Yesterday he approached me, wanting to talk about the past. The war killed our friendship off. I hate to remember, but I miss the child he was. How he appreciated the things I made for him…we could have stayed the best of friends if not for his bloody independent streak and love of informalities. But now Alfred's his own country…and I'm mine._

Fifteen minutes later, Arthur found Alfred slurping from one of his fast food chain's plastic cups.

"Your food is going to kill everyone, from heart disease and diabetes," he announced, closing the door behind him.

America started, looking up guiltily. But he still shot back, "Your food's going to gradually dull everyone's taste buds until there's none left."

Arthur glared. "I know what you want. Spit it out, I haven't got all day."

Alfred placed his cup on a side table (with no coaster, which made England flinch).

"Arthur," he said, looking England straight in the eye, "I love you."

It took a few seconds for England to process exactly what had been said. "I'm sorry?"

"I was awful to you," Alfred said, standing and beginning to walk toward him. "After all you gave to me, I still wanted more. I attacked you, and I'm sorry."

Arthur, meanwhile, was slowly backing away. _There goes the apology, at least. _"There's been a misunderstanding," he said.

Alfred ignored him. "I need to say that I loved you that whole time. First like a friend, but then…"

"You can't," England said. Alfred had him pressed against the wall now, holding his hands to his sides. "D-don't…"

"Please, Arthur," Alfred said, whispering into his ear.

England made a noise that was neither protest nor submission. He only had time to whimper, "Alfred…" before all he could feel were Alfred's hands roaming down his back.

"It's all I want," Alfred said. "All I want is _you_, Arthur,"

"No," he said, "It's not right…"

"No one will know," the American said.

"I will," Arthur snapped. He suddenly felt angry, needing to get away. "Get off me."

"But…" Alfred hesitated.

"_Now_," Arthur said.

"Fine," America said sourly, stepping back. "But I won't give you up. I'll win you over yet, you'll see."

"I am not a prize to be won," England said, puffing out his chest.

"I'll never stop fighting for you, Arthur," Alfred said, backing out of the room.

England stood still when the door slammed, and sighed.

_That was dramatic_, he thought.

Then he slumped down on the floor and began to sob.

_Oh, Alfred,_ he thought as he wept, _I have always loved you…_

The next day's meeting was fantastically awkward.

Britain slumped in with dark circles under his eyes, and is hair a mess, having spent the night sobbing facedown into his pillows. America looked no better, with his jacket open and half of his hair sticking straight up.

Unlike usual meetings, the two countries sat at opposite ends of the room. America, instead of taking the lead like he always did, sat down immediately once he came in the door and stared at England. England, who arrived later, moved so he was obscured behind Russia and looked down at the floor.

"What is bothering you, Britain?" Russia asked, looking down on England's hunched shape. "Is it that America? He is such fool, you agree?"

"Quite," Britain said, shrinking down even more as America's gaze narrowed and intensified.

As the meeting came to a close (with once again, no resolution), England nearly ran into America while sprinting from the room. He stammered an apology, and nearly made his escape until America's stiff, "Hold on a second," brought him to a halt.

He turned, and looked at the blonde, blue-eyed superpower leaning over him. He stammered, "I should really get going, America. I mean I don't have all day, lots of important things to do. Oh, would you LOOK at the time; I have to be at a luncheon with my mother, who is fatally ill. I really must be going, so goodbye!"

"Please don't fight me anymore," America pleaded, looking at him with the biggest angel eyes Arthur had ever seen.

_No_, England thought, _because if I give in I'll have to tell him I love him. If I give in, I give up my country and my pride and there is no way I GIVE UP MY PRIDE. If I give in, I'll have to admit I only let him go because I didn't want to see him hurt…_

Arthur looked frantically around the conference room for help. The room was empty, however, and Alfred had Arthur trapped in the doorway.

England's head started to whirl. _So much has gone bad_, he thought,_ my country is in ruin! What would I have to lose? I could love for once, and be loved. Does pride matter that much?_

He looked the pleading Alfred straight in the eye.

_Nothing to lose._

He kissed Alfred.

America had no idea why England had just kissed him, but he had but a few seconds to seize the moment before Arthur came to his senses and knocked him away. He kissed him back, gripping the other man's jacket tightly and pulling Arthur against him.

Arthur reached up and grabbed Alfred's hair, entangling his fingers and dragging America's face closer to his. A small moan escaped the back of his throat, but was lost in Alfred's mouth. Not a moment to soon, for Alfred's tongue made it's way out of his mouth and ventured into England's.

Arthur's grip was even tighter now, and Alfred made a loud a growl as he could manage, what with half his face seemingly glued onto Arthur's.

Things were becoming much to heated for an open doorway. Alfred dragged his smaller partner back into the room and closed he door. He pushed Arthur down on the table, making Arthur straddle his hips and feel exactly where this was going.

"Wait, s-stop," Arthur gasped, pulling away.

"What?" Alfred said, leaning forwards again.

"Protection," Arthur said desperately. "I want to be-"

"Safe, I get it." Alfred reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the shiny piece of plastic.

"What-" Arthur started to ask.

"I was prepared to win you, not lose you," Alfred said, smirking.

"Arrogant bastard," Arthur hissed, pulling Alfred towards him again.

"Hasty, are we?" Said Alfred before their lips connected again.

England's hands traveled down Alfred's back until they were gripping his ass. Alfred, in return, shoved his hands between their chests and began to unzip Arthur's jacket. In a second, both his jacket and shirt were on the floor. Alfred leaned back and surveyed his partner, tracing his fingers over Arthur's muscles. The Englishman mewled in response.

"Mm," Alfred said, moving towards Arthur's neck. "You are _way_ too goddamn sexy."

"You would know," Arthur mumbled before a wave of pleasure overtook him and made him unable to speak.

Alfred flicked his tongue over a vein in England's neck; whose skin was salty from the sheen of sweat covering his throat. Arthur groaned, grinding his hips even more against Alfred's.

"Tease," Alfred growled.

"Then get on with it," England panted, reaching for the zipper of Alfred's pants.

While Arthur unzipped his fly, Alfred ripped his jacket off.

"Now it's my turn," Arthur said, leaning into the other blonde's chest.

"What-" Alfred said, but was cut off as Arthur's teeth scraped across his nipple. "Ah, God!"

He arched his back, forcing Arthur to cling to the American as if life depended on it. Arthur continued his exploration of Alfred's hairless, muscled, tan chest. Alfred let out another whine as Arthur found his other nipple, swirling his tongue over the peak.

"A-Arthur!" He panted, head thrown back. Arthur was beside himself with glee to see the ever-confident superpower, lying vulnerable and filled with lust before him. It seemed almost to good to be true. And indeed it was, for the American couldn't handle submission for much longer. Even now he was starting to quiver, the need to take charge overwhelming the desire to be played with, toyed with.

In the next second he snapped, growling and seizing two handfuls of Arthur's hair. He pulled the Brit back to him, forcing his tongue between his lips. Arthur didn't care. Finally, he had Alfred wrapped around him.

Alfred couldn't take it any longer. The throbbing in his pants was too much, and he knew that if he didn't get in Arthur in the next minute, he was going to burst over them both. He reached for Arthur's slacks, and yanked them off with a sharp gasp from Arthur, who shivered in the exposure. Arthur was quivering, which only slowed Alfred slightly. _Was he afraid?_

Alfred pulled off his own pants in a rush, throwing them aside to lie in a puddle on the floor. Arthur was really shaking now. His hands weren't straight, and they shuddered over Alfred's skin.

"Hey," Alfred said softly. "Look at me." Arthur complied, staring up into the American's face with wide eyes.

"I won't hurt you," Alfred whispered. "I promise."

Slowly, Arthur's shaking slowed, and he gathered the courage to look his partner in the eyes.

"Alfred," he said, hooking his index fingers into Alfred's boxers.

"Yes?" Alfred asked. He felt his length twitch and nearly jump into Arthur's hands.

"I need you inside me," Arthur whispered, "_please_…" In the next moment, their boxers were torn off, and their naked bodies ground against each other, reveling in the sensation of feeling each other's skin.

Leaning towards the ground, Alfred slipped a bottle of lube from his pocket and squirted some on his fingers.

"You want this?" He asked Arthur. Arthur nodded, his eyes locked on Alfred's slick fingers. "Hold still, and relax," Alfred said, spreading Arthur's legs as wide as he could get them. He felt guilty. Relaxation was the last thing on the Englishman's face that he could see.

Arthur winced as the first finger entered him, trying to keep in mind the advice to _relax_. He let out a small whimper at the second finger, but couldn't help but notice the pang of pleasure that reverberated through his pelvis. At three fingers, the pain overtook pleasure, and he momentarily squirmed until Alfred whispered comfort in his ear. Alfred quirked his fingers, and Arthur let out a breathy scream as Alfred hit his

Alfred slowly and carefully removed his fingers, noticing the hiss it brought from Arthur. Alfred fetched the condom from the table and rolled it on, flinching at the cold plastic. He paused at Arthur's entrance, just allowing the tip of his penis to rest there.

"Arthur?"

"Hmm." Arthur muttered, eyes closed.

"Look at me, baby."

Arthur opened his eyes hesitantly, looking for his lover's face. When he found it, he saw Alfred look straight into his eyes.

"I love you, Arthur," Alfred said, and pushed his hips carefully forward.

"Oh, God," Arthur gasped, a rolling wave of lust sweeping his body. His throbbing length suddenly jerked, and Alfred groaned as he entered Arthur.

"Arthur…so tight…"

Arthur let out a whimper, arching his back and tossing back his head. Alfred gently rocked his hips against his partner's, knowing he couldn't do so for much longer, for Arthur moaned as he felt Alfred grow steadily harder inside him.

"Alfred," he gasped, not able to keep anything but the pleasure out of his head. With a last clear though, Alfred thrust, and slammed into England's prostate. Arthur whined, gripping at the table. He released his grip a second later when Alfred began to rock back and forth, going deeper with every movement. He couldn't see anymore as Alfred let out a groan. He began to move faster, knowing that he wouldn't last much longer. Leaning down and still keeping his rhythm, he took hold of Arthur's cock, and bucked back into the smaller man's hips. Arthur's pleasure was nearly peaking, and with one last final pump from his partner and a wail, Alfred's fingers were covered in semen.

"Ngh!" Alfred gasped, and d Arthur's body was filled with his cum. He pulled out with the white stuff still dripping onto the dark wood. Arthur sighed and dropped his head to the desk. Alfred sighed, rolling the condom of his length and dropping it into the trashcan. He pulled Arthur up off the desk and turned him around.

"What-" Arthur was barely able to croak.

"It's okay," Alfred said, and slipped a finger inside Arthur once again. Arthur winced, because his asshole hurt enough already, and Alfred's finger poking around, scraping out cum, was a little too much. When Alfred was done, Arthur felt him pull him up and dress him. His breathing was growing slow, and the warmth and pleasure was soft and lulling. When he could sense that they were both dressed, he crawled across the table to Alfred and climbed into his arms.

"We made a mess," he murmured, burying his nose in Alfred's jacket, smelling his musk.

Alfred laughed. "So we did."

"Alfred?"

"Yes?" Alfred asked his partner, holding him in his arms. England sighed.

"Can we go home?"

"Sure," Alfred said, gazing fondly down at his partner. "My place or yours?"

England's eyebrows furrows, which made America use all his restraint to keep from burst out laughing. "Don't care," he said sleepily.

Alfred chuckled. He walked out of the building and to his car, and by the time he pulled up to his mansion, he found Arthur already asleep. He pulled him out of the car and carried him to his room, stripping them both down to their undershirts and boxers. He laid England beside him on his large, king-sized bed and curled himself around the small blond.

"I love you, Arthur Kirkland," He sighed. "And now…I've finally conquered England!"

"WHAT?" England screamed, sitting up straight in bed.

All the servants fled the house due to England's hysterical screams and America's hyena laughter.


End file.
